


You Be My Star (I'll Be Your Sky)

by MissNessarose



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VI: Return of the Jedi, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Repressed, F/M, Feelings, Fluff and Angst, Guilt, He just loves her so much okay, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Star Wars: Return of the Jedi, Self Confidence Issues, These two will destroy me, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 09:56:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9434942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissNessarose/pseuds/MissNessarose
Summary: Even after all that she's done and everything that she's accomplished, she does not believe that she is worth anything. (Or: Leia, and a matter of perfection.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> I've recently jumped head-first back into the gaping hole that is my devotion for Star Wars, so expect quite a bit more if I can pull myself together enough to finish some more pieces. This was started the other night as a sort of self-projected therapy session, but I'm very pleased with how it turned out! Have fun, grab some tissues, and enjoy~!

“I’m sorry.”

The medic has just started wrapping a layer of bacta gel around the blaster wound on her arm when she locks eyes with Han and simply _says it_. He’s already been looked over and discharged, but he was content to sit and stay with Leia until she was done (they’ve only used a needle once, but she’s never been a fan, and Han knows that). Her apology comes out of absolutely nowhere, and for a second he thinks she’s kidding, that maybe he misheard her. Then he looks up and sees the guilt heavy in her eyes.

“For what, Leia?” _Princess_ almost slips out (out of habit), but he checks it when she stiffens and pulls her hand away. Leia has witnessed just as much - if not more - as the rest of them in this fight, but Han has never seen her shaken up like _this_ before. Subtle changes, yes, but things that he notices after being close to her for so long.

She nods to her shoulder with a neat half-shrug, the best she can manage without disrupting the medic at her side. “For getting myself shot. If anyone else had shown up...I could have easily gotten you killed.”

_What?_

“Leia, I’m fine. Don’t worry about it, okay? Nobody else got hurt. As long as you’re alright, that’s fine.”

“I think you’ll pull through,” the medic says, half jokingly. He hands over a list of instructions and a recommendation for painkillers if necessary, and asks her to come back in a few days to see if the wound has closed properly.

“See? Nothing to worry about, Princess.”

Leia nods and lets Han take her hand, but doesn’t say another word.

The walk back across base is long, and overcast with a heavy silence. For whatever reason, Leia won’t say a thing, and it’s starting to worry Han. When he stops, it takes her a long moment to look around and realize that he isn’t following her anymore.

“What are you doing?” she finally says, when it’s clear that he won’t keep going.

He doesn’t want to push her, but there’s something so blatantly wrong that he feels the need to intervene.

“C’mere, Princess. I just wanna talk.”

Something in her eyes flickers - she doesn’t like the sound of that - but she comes closer anyway, her lips a narrow, tight line.

“Hey.” Han isn’t sure how to go about this, has never had to do anything touchy like this before. Leia’s fingers are clenched into small, white-knuckled little fists, and he uncurls them as carefully as he can, weaving their fingers together seamlessly. “Relax, okay? I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s obviously really bugging you. What’s wrong?”

Frowning, Leia doesn’t look at him. She swallows hard, leg bouncing nervously, and looks at the floor. Her voice sounds like it doesn’t come from her body, so detached and lifeless that he swears it could’ve been a droid listing off instructions. “I could have gotten you _killed_.”

He sighs. “You’re still hung up on that you-getting-shot thing? Leia, it doesn’t _matter_ \- ”

“It does. It does matter,” she spits, suddenly, pulling away. She isn’t sure what to do with her hands, and settles for half-hearted gestures that feel forced with every word. Her eyes are distant. “Because that slip-up means that I failed.”

“That’s a...that’s a pretty big jump to make there, sweetheart. You’ve done more than half of the people in this rebellion, you know that?”  

“But I could have done more,” she insists, biting at the edge of her lip. There’s something dark collecting in her eyes, cloudy and out of place. “And I _fucked_ that up, you almost died in carbonite, I got myself captured, and I can’t - I _can’t_ \- ”

Han doesn’t get it.

The Princess has had luxury all throughout her early life, has always been intelligent and brave and kind, and he _doesn’t understand_. He doesn’t know how a girl like this could find any flaw with herself (alright, maybe he’s a little bit biased because he’s helplessly in love with her, but that’s beside the point), to the point that she’s so broken up over the smallest detail.

He knows he’s hit a chord when her voice hitches, and a hand flies to her mouth to cover the hiccup, the nails on her other hand pressing red little half-moons into her palm. It comes over him slowly that this isn’t _new._ She’s been beating herself up over whatever this is for years, buried it deep and never talked about it and hoped that it would go away.

“Whoa, whoa - hey, it’s alright.” There’s a hard bench against the wall that he sits down on, and when he beckons her over it doesn’t go unnoticed that she keeps her distance when she sits beside him. Leia is _shaking_ , her shoulders trembling with every deep, shattered breath. A cadet passes them and casts a wary glance back over his shoulder, cocking his head to the side with a hint of concern. Han shakes his head and waves the kid on. He’s got this.

“Look,” he starts, trying to talk her down from wherever she’s gotten herself. “I didn’t know what - I’m sorry I brought it up. We don’t have to talk about it, but...but if you _want_ to, Leia, I…”

 _I’m right here_.

She knows.

For a long time, it’s quiet. Han watches her shoulders rise and fall as if it were the one thing keeping him alive. He doesn’t want to press, doesn’t want to drive her away. But if he can tap into this, then maybe - just maybe - she’ll be able to get it off of her chest, and he’ll be able to understand _why._

When she’s ready, Leia starts.

“It’s hard to live with such high standards, that’s all. Your own standards. You just, you do things so well that it doesn’t become such a fantastic thing anymore. It just becomes the normal, the usual, what you’re simply supposed to do. Fantastic becomes your average, and when you don’t hit that, it’s as if…” She’s been using one flat hand to mimic ranks on an invisible ladder, and she moves it now as low as she can reach. “Nothing means anything anymore if it isn’t fantastic. And even _that -_ doing your absolute best - means little to nothing to you.”

Her breath catches again, her eyes trained on the ceiling as she blinks back tears so she doesn’t have to look him in the eye.

“And I fucked up, Han, I got you hurt, and that’s not okay, that isn’t even close to _fantastic_ , and I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you got stuck with me, that I’m not the kind of person I think you deserve to be with. You deserve someone who isn’t a fuck-up.”

He hears every word leave her lips, and can’t believe that they _are_ coming from her. He - and the rest of the Resistance - hold this woman on such a high, perfect pedestal, and to see that she knocked herself down from that long ago hurts him more than any blaster wound could.

Leia deserves the world - the fact that she doesn’t believe the same _hurts._

She doesn’t stop, doesn’t wait for him to say anything. Now that she’s started, she has to finish this, has to get it all out before it consumes her.

“I can’t do anything right. I was never _taught_ how to, I don’t know how to function, how to do _normal_ things. I just - I don’t believe them when they tell me I’m a hero, Han, I didn’t do _shit_ other than _organize_ this kriffing Rebellion. I’m useless, and I’m sorry - I’m so _sorry - ”_

Leia doesn’t cry. Han has seen her flustered, and frustrated, and furious, but he’s never seen her _cry_ . Her carefully-crafted walls come falling down around her, and it takes a moment before Han realizes the next catch in her breath is a hiccuped _sob_ . She moves to cover her mouth with her hands, every breath a gasp. Leia is wholly crying, harder than he’s ever seen anyone cry before, her sobs loud and ragged and _painful_.

She has never loved herself, he pieces together. And because of that, she doesn’t believe that she deserves anything - she doesn’t believe that she deserves _him._

“Stars, sweetheart.” It takes all of him to gather her in his arms, and not dissolve into tears with her. Her cries are still loud, even muffled against his chest - he can make out ten thousand _I’m sorry’s_ against his shoulder that run together into one meaningless word - and all of her shakes with each punctuated sob. Time is lost in an infinite bubble around them until Leia comes down from her sorrow’s peak and sits back, her face a mask of exhaustion and grief.

“I’m sorry,” she says again, wincing at the sound of her voice, clotted with tears. “That was stupid, you didn’t need to - ”

“No.”

It comes out sharper than Han intended, and he doesn’t miss the way Leia flinches. He grabs her hands like they’re the only tether tying him to this world, to this hallway, and doesn’t let her turn her eyes away.

“No. I’m glad you did. I think you needed to get that out, and...and I’m glad you opened up like that, sweetheart. I’m glad that you’re okay with telling me things like that, I know it’s not easy.”

She closes her eyes, bites her lip, tries to hold back another round of unnecessary tears.

“But - _I,_ on the other hand, whether that means much to you or not, personally think that you are intelligent and beautiful and stronger and braver than anyone I know - and that includes me. And I’ve been in a good, heavy firefight or two, Princess.” She laughs a little at that, a surefire sign that he’s getting _somewhere_ . “And I thought, when I realized that you were doing more than just getting on my nerves, that you wouldn’t look at an asshole like me and figure that _I_ was good enough for _you_.”

“Han,” Leia sighs, her eyes darkening again and her frown coming back.

“So, I mean, maybe this is a better match than we thought it was, yeah? Because I never thought that a guy like me, and such a perfect, brilliant Princess would ever - could ever - ” He stops there, because if she keeps looking at him like that with those sad eyes while he pours his heart out, he’s really going to cry. “It hurts, because I don’t think I’ve ever loved anyone or anything more than you, Leia.”

She sniffles, chuckles, and slips their hands back together.

“More than your ship?”

“Okay, maybe you’re a _little_ less important than my ship,” he decides, after some debate, and Leia’s laughing again, her eyes bright again. “Just know that no matter what you tell yourself, I will love you enough for the both of us.”

The smile that follows is warm and subtle, but so genuine that Han can’t help but feel proud that _he_ put that there.

“Thanks, hotshot,” she says, grinning. The sadness melts off of her in a wave, so refreshing that the air in the whole hallway has changed completely. She tugs him in for a kiss before he can even process what’s happening, but he melts into it nonetheless, aware of the salt still lingering on her lips. When they separate, Leia stands and pulls him to his feet, locking their fingers together like they were meant to fit that way.

He isn’t sure where they were going beforehand, but wandering is just fine for now.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Leia says softly, so quiet that for a moment, he wonders if he merely imagined it.

“It’s a good thing I came along, then, isn’t it?”

She whacks him in the arm for that one, even though she’s laughing. Leia doesn’t believe the things people tell her -

“I love you, Princess.”

“I know.”

\- but she believes Han.


End file.
